Her lovely countenance glowed with enthusiasm as she spoke; while her tiny hands were clasped in an ecstasy of delight.
Mortimer Percy's face grew strangely mournful as he looked upon the excited girl.
"One moment, Miss Leslie," he exclaimed, earnestly, pausing, with his hand upon the carriage door. "You remember what I said to you in Grosvenor Square, on the night of my aunt's ball?"
"Yes, perfectly."
"You remember that I then told you I feared your father's welcome might not be so warm a one as your loving heart would lead you to desire. If to-night you should find it so, remember my warning, and do not doubt your father's affection, even should he receive you somewhat coldly. Remember too, that come what may, and should the hour of trouble fall upon you, as it sometimes does on the youngest and the fairest; remember that you have always a friend in Mortimer Percy, and do not scruple to appeal to him."
He clasped her hand in his as he spoke, and she returned the friendly pressure.
"There is a mystery in your words which I seek in vain to fathom, Mr. Percy," she said; "and I know that your warnings fill me with a strange fear; but I know, too, that you have been very good to me, and should sorrow come, I will not hesitate to appeal to you and your cousin Adelaide."
"Adelaide is a good little girl," answered Mortimer, with a sigh; "but I shall be better able to serve you than she. Good night, Miss Leslie."
He released her slender hand, gave some directions to the driver, and in another moment the horse started, and Cora felt that she was on her way to her father's residence.
The sun was sinking in a bed of crimson glory, and the dusky shadows closing in the streets of New Orleans.